


just this once

by searwrites (sears)



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, dorm room escapades, erections and touching idk how to rate, heavily implied samezuka ot4 dynamics, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:53:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sears/pseuds/searwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from tumblr anon request: "would you consider writing something that expands on the "cleavage" incident between momo and rin?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	just this once

Momo barges in on Rin, much the same as the way he would barge in on any of his teammates - at full brazen force, uncaring of what he might walk in on. 

He’s caught Nitori balled up beneath the covers before, hiding the magazines he thinks Momo doesn’t know about. He does know, and he’s seen them. Glossy pictures of both boys and girls, soft breasts, hard stomachs. Nitori had stopped when he heard Momo enter, went suspiciously quiet and still. Only after a lazy  _“goodnight”_  and a heave toward the top bunk did Nitori make a sound. Soft little gasps, the occasional sharp hitch in his breath. Momo listened to the whole thing.

It should deter him from doing this, but it doesn’t. If anything he’s less inhibited, more fuelled by a general sense of curiosity, that way that boys on the same team can share all of their secrets - or so he’d assumed.

Rin isn’t doing anything exciting, though, only laying on his back, pondering the small, delicate looking thing held in his hand. A cookie, shaped like a butterfly.

“Sorry to bother you, Rin-senpai! Could you take a look at my personal training regimen for tomorrow?”

And maybe it’s the lingering memory of Nitori tangled up beneath his sheets, or wondering if Rin and Sousuke share magazines too, if they’ve seen each other, stayed up listening the way he had. Something has his mind caught up, because the first thing he clocks is the arousing conundrum of Rin’s very deliberately defined chest.

“Cleavage…” he whispers, not intentionally out loud.

“Hey,” Rin warns, and Momo rears back slightly.

This is bad. Or is it? Rin is like the men he’s seen in Nitori magazines, all tight muscle and long limbs, he can’t be blamed for looking. No, not looking. Wanting - that’s different. This is all Nitori’s fault.

“S-sorry,” Momo says.

“What the heck?” Rin’s eyes scan his face then, looking, waiting. He’s good at that, at figuring out how soft or hard he needs to be with someone, good at encouragement, good at patience. He must see the panic written beneath the embarrassment, because now he looks almost  _guilty_  - which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Rin holds up the half eaten cookie in his hand, shaped like a butterfly only with one tip of a wing bitten off. “Wanna try one?”

Momo leans forward, parts his lips and takes the cookie straight from Rin’s hand with his mouth without giving himself the chance to think about it much. It’s sweet, with the chalky aftertaste of protein powder. Momo glances down, wonders if protein gives you breasts like this. Rin is leaning up on one elbow, which makes his right pec more outlined than his left, his dark grey tank hanging loosely around the contour of the muscle. Momo licks his lips, blames that on the cookie.

Rin, for all his usual composure, freezes solid. Momo’s mouth is mere inches away from his fingers, and he hasn’t pulled away - looks like he isn’t sure he wants to.

Momo speaks, his voice somehow deeper. “Tell Gou-san they’re good.”

Rin’s hand drops, slowly, like whatever secret little bubble they’d been wrapped up in had just popped.

“She didn’t make them,” he says.

Momo’s heart does a concerning twirl in his chest. Did Rin make them? And he ate one, right from his hand…

“You did?” Momo asks softly.

Rin swallows, the sound of it audible, his throat muscles tensing. “No,” he says.

Momo slides onto Rin’s bed, emboldened by the curious way he seems to have Rin all twisted up. It’s like Nitori, which is a comparison he would never think to make, the way he seemed almost painfully embarrassed the day after he caught him touching himself over the magazines, his face bright pink, avoiding Momo’s gaze.

Part of Momo wonders if Sousuke ever gets like this, and what could possibly trigger it. He’s caught thinking about it, sitting on his heels at the corner of Rin’s bed. Rin scoots back to accommodate, still leaning on one elbow.

He decides to push it, to see if Rin will allow him to. He reaches for the box, intent on another cookie, though they didn’t taste all that great. Rin is too quick, he snatches the box away from him, laughing warmly when Momo pouts.

“I said only one,” Rin scolds.

All Momo hears is  _‘just this once’_ , so he leans in, braces his hand on the very center of Rin’s chest. And he wasn’t nervous until he felt it - felt the raw, thundering beat of Rin’s heart. He kisses Rin, blames it on boyish experimentation, his mouth partly open and clumsy. Rin actually kisses him back, takes Momo’s lip into his mouth, teases it with his tongue, and Momo - Momo  _feels_ it, all through his body, adrenaline from doing something he knows he shouldn’t.

Rin quickly recovers himself, grunts and pushes Momo away, holding him back by the jaw, squeezing just enough to be punishing. Rin is breathing so heavily, his chest rising and falling in short, quick little bursts. Momo wants to touch him again, just there, so he does - trails his fingers right down the small, hard curve in between both pecs.

He isn’t expecting Rin to kiss him again, but he almost does. Rin breathes heavily through his nose, his arm shaking. Momo can still feel his heart pounding, even with such a gentle, fleeting touch. Rin leans forward, eyes darkly intent on Momo’s lower lip, like he’s imagining taking it into his mouth again, biting down with the sharpest parts of his teeth - but he doesn’t. He jerks backwards, drops his hand.

“Take the damn cookies,” he says, tossing the tin box into Momo’s lap. It hits his erection, and they both wince - Momo in pain, Rin in something like guilt.

Momo doesn’t move, and Rin seems far more composed now, that small mote of distance making it somehow easier to put what they were doing in perspective. But perspective is a thing Momo has yet to learn, still working around the kinks of regret and shame. So after too long a stiff silence, Rin presses his foot into Momo’s chest, shoving him away from the bed.

“Get the hell out!” Rin shouts this time, not any more unkind than he usually does. He knows he’ll be back. Rin cares about him - all of them - more than he would ever admit out loud.

“Thanks, Rin-senpai,” Momo says quietly, and he leaves with the entire box of cookies.

He bumps into Sousuke on his way out, balancing the cookie tin in one arm while trying to adjust the tightness of his shorts with the other. Sousuke says nothing about it, only glances towards the door of his and Rin’s shared room, then back to Momo, his eyes narrowing.

“Gimme one,” Sousuke says, jerking his chin towards the cookies.

Momo opens up the tin, pops one right in Sousuke’s open mouth, trying his very best not to grin about it. He fails, of course. Even Sousuke looks amused by his expression.

Sousuke’s smirk quickly turns into a stony glare. “Now fuck off,” he says, and Momo does, smiling the whole way back to his dorm.


End file.
